


knit pick (the otaku in the pink remix)

by thunderylee



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: How Massu’s washing machine got broken.





	knit pick (the otaku in the pink remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Art of Washing Clothing](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/331560) by lastingdreams8. 



> reposted from agck. written for jentfic_remix 2012.

“You could help a little bit,” Shige grumbles.

“Why?” Tegoshi replies, smiling brightly as he helpfully leads Shige through Massu’s kitchen. “You seem to have it well enough on your own.”

Above the big, undoubtedly heavy box, Shige’s eyebrows are angry. “I’m an idol, not an appliance deliveryman.”

“That’s why I drove,” Tegoshi says, then points at the empty space between the dryer and the wall. “It goes there.”

“We have to take it out of the box first,” Shige tells him, breath heaving as he places it as close as he can. “And you’re in the way.”

“You should be used to that by now,” Tegoshi points out as he whips out the knife on his keychain to cut open the box. He notices Shige’s eyes widen and peers at him. “What?”

“You carry a switchblade on you?” Shige asks incredulously.

“For opening things!” Tegoshi declares, followed by a pout. “You told me to help.”

Shige doesn’t say anything else, but he eyes the blade until it’s flipped shut and back in Tegoshi’s pocket. Tegoshi wonders if Shige has had some kind of bad experience with a knife and thinks it better not to ask. See, he can be considerate.

The shiny new washing machine is pretty much assembled, just some stray cables and pipes that Tegoshi plugs wherever they fit while Shige reads the directions. It’s like the one time he built a bookshelf with Koyama, only this is much less likely to fall over on them. As Shige matches letters and numbers, Tegoshi flips the colorful dials and cheers as the basin starts to fill with water.

“Yay!” he exclaims.

Shige looks over in bewilderment. “Huh.”

“We should wash something,” Tegoshi suggests, “to make sure it works.”

“Don’t you dare,” Shige stops him, grabbing Tegoshi’s wrist as he starts to leave the kitchen. “That’s how you broke it to begin with.”

“How would I know Nakamaru-kun’s old-man sweater vest would unravel and clog it up?” Tegoshi asks innocently. “Massu was nice enough to let me do my laundry here -”

“He didn’t let you,” Shige corrects. “He didn’t even know you had a key to his apartment.”

“Yeah, well, I do,” Tegoshi huffs. “Did. Anyway, I thought I would be  _nice_  in return and wash some of his stuff, too. Why are Nakamaru-kun’s clothes in his hamper, anyway?”

“Questions I don’t want answers to,” Shige mutters. “Ever.”

“Fine,” Tegoshi says, pulling his shirt over his head. “We’ll wash  _my_  clothes. Then if anything gets ruined, it’s  _mine_. But it won’t, because this is brand new and totally hooked up right.”

Shige says nothing as Tegoshi yanks his keys and wallet out of the pockets of his jeans before tossing them in after the shirt, then peels off his socks to follow. None of it is white, so it should be okay. At least, Tegoshi thinks that’s how it works. The only time he’s really done laundry on his own is when he broke Massu’s old washing machine, which Massu made him replace.

“There.” Tegoshi folds his arms satisfactorily as he stands in Massu’s kitchen barefoot wearing only boxers and his necklace.

“Are you going to put in detergent?” Shige asks, his voice toneless. “The Downy ball?”

“The… what?” Tegoshi asks, bringing his fingers to his lips in confusion, and Shige just rolls his eyes and shoves him to the side. Tegoshi watches as Shige reaches for a jug of blue liquid and measures it into the cap, then dumps it into the sloshing water that’s slowly rising around his clothes. Another jug gets poured into a small dome of some sort, which Shige drops into the water before shutting the lid.

They both watch the washing machine remain where it is as it starts its cycle properly. After ten seconds, Tegoshi gets bored and hops up onto it, eyes widening at the vibrations underneath him.

“Aren’t you cold?” Shige asks, staring to Tegoshi’s immediate right, and Tegoshi thinks it’s cute how he pretends not to care about Tegoshi’s welfare.

“Why, do you want to warm me up?” he jokes, then his jaw drops as he watches Shige blush. “ _Shige_!”

“It’s your fault!” Shige yells, and Tegoshi imagines steam blowing out of his ears to match. “You put the idea in my head.”

Tegoshi doesn’t bother to stop the devious smirk forming on his face. “Shige, come here.”

“No!” Shige replies, just as loudly. “Absolutely not. I won’t disrespect Massu’s home -”

“Oh, but you’d disrespect my body?” Tegoshi cuts him off, and Shige falls silent. “Come  _here_ , Shige.”

“No,” Shige repeats, but much weaker. “This is a bad idea.”

“None of my ideas are bad,” Tegoshi tells him, reaching for his arm. Shige tries to move out of the way, but he’s too slow and Tegoshi gets a firm grip on his wrist, yanking him towards the washing machine and right between his spread legs. “I really am cold, Shige, warm me up.”

Shige’s shaking more than the washing machine, but he allows Tegoshi to guide him by the jaw and only flinches a little bit when Tegoshi kisses him. His gasp just invites Tegoshi to keep going, licking the seam of both of Shige’s lips before dipping his tongue inside, his fingers trickling down Shige’s arms to relocate his hands from the washing machine to Tegoshi’s waist.

The chill that surges up Tegoshi’s spine from Shige’s touch has nothing to do with the temperature, and Tegoshi kisses him harder as he reaches for Shige’s belt to pull him even  _closer_. Tegoshi scoots up as well, wrapping his legs around Shige’s waist as he unbuckles the leather and opens Shige’s pants, finding him hard and swallowing his whimpers when he makes contact.

“Shige,” Tegoshi whispers against his lips, and Shige whines. “If you want me, you can have me.”

Shige shudders, hands clutching onto Tegoshi’s hips like they’re the only thing keeping him standing, and Tegoshi flicks Shige’s tongue with his own so that he can’t answer. To Tegoshi’s surprise, he does anyway, just not verbally as he lowers his hands to grab Tegoshi’s ass and grind against him, pushing into his palm and groaning as he tilts his head to deepen their kiss.

This is more like it, Tegoshi thinks, allowing Shige to devour him and letting out a moan of his own when the machine switches to spin cycle. “ _Shige_ ,” he pleads, because he’s not too proud to beg, especially when he’s being stimulated from the gentle rocking beneath him.

“Okay,” Shige says, breathlessly, sounding like it’s more to himself than to Tegoshi. “Okay, but. I don’t.. I don’t have anything, shit.”

“I do,” Tegoshi says, laughing when Shige gives him a shocked look. “You never know when an opportunity will arise, Shige,” he adds, sliding his fist up and down Shige’s cock and watching his eyes roll back into his head. “Better to always be prepared! Hand me my wallet.”

It’s right next to them on the dryer, but Shige obediently retrieves it and hands it to Tegoshi, grumbling about getting a sexual safety lecture from someone with poodle hair. Tegoshi just smiles and pulls Shige back into his mouth as he digs out the condom and sample packet of lube he’d gotten at a club once, then pushes them into Shige’s palm.

“You know what to do, right?” he teases.

“ _Yes_ ,” Shige hisses defensively, and Tegoshi’s pleased that his boxers are removed without any hesitation. “Have you done this before? I didn’t think you were into guys.”

“I don’t discriminate,” Tegoshi replies, twisting his fingers into Shige’s shirt before pulling it over his head. His fingers trail down Shige’s bare chest, eliciting a visible shiver, and Tegoshi leans in to brush their lips together. “Make it good, Shige.”

He expects a witty comeback, or what Shige thinks is a witty comeback, but instead he feels slick fingers between his legs, teasing his inner thigh and rubbing his tight balls. Tegoshi lifts his legs higher, his body rocking on its own as it seeks out the very personal touch, and he moans into Shige’s mouth with each circle of his rim, squeezing Shige’s length in his hand to make him go faster.

It works, and Tegoshi presses back against the finger that invades him, one then two. Shige curls them and Tegoshi cries out as they hit him deep inside, giving him a sharp pang of pleasure that has him reaching for the condom to put it on Shige himself.

“Tegoshi,” Shige says, almost in awe, but then Tegoshi’s sucking on his tongue and he can’t talk anymore. Their hands bump as Shige hastily lubes his length and then there’s three fingers inside Tegoshi, stretching him open and moving so fast that he’s practically bouncing on them.

“Fuck me, Shige,” Tegoshi moans into their kiss. “Fuck me right here on Massu’s new washing machine.”

“I cannot  _believe_  -” Shige starts.

“At least it’s not his bed,” Tegoshi interrupts, and that must be a good enough reason because Shige’s looping his arms around Tegoshi’s thighs and leaning forward. Tegoshi feels the head of Shige’s cock between his legs and undulates to take it in, drinking down Shige’s delicious groan and digging his heels into Shige’s ass to give him a literal kick-start.

“ _Tegoshi_ ,” Shige says again, choking on his air as he buries himself inside Tegoshi. “You feel so good.”

“Yeah,” Tegoshi replies as his body gets used to Shige long before Shige actually moves. “I want to feel more.”

Shige’s first thrust is sharp, taking Tegoshi by surprise and pulling a loud moan from his lungs. “Like that?”

Tegoshi just nods, scrambling to hold on to Shige’s shoulders as Shige pounds into him slow and hard. The next thing he knows, Shige’s lips are on his in a searing kiss, but then he tears them away to gasp and pant against Tegoshi’s face, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Tegoshi’s ass and yanking him towards him in contrast. It hits Tegoshi even deeper and he can’t stay quiet, his vocals out of his control as Shige brings him so close he’s trembling.

“Shige,” Tegoshi gets out, dropping a shaky hand down to pry one of Shige’s off of him. “Touch me, please. Make me come.”

Shige growls in response and now Tegoshi’s body is moving on its own, shuddering and arching and so, so hot as Shige wraps his fingers around Tegoshi’s cock and pulls him off. He can barely get out Shige’s name before he’s coming, orgasm hitting him so hard that he’s pretty sure he disappears from this earth for awhile, and Shige’s long, low groan signals his following release.

“I have the best ideas, right?” Tegoshi asks, breathless, and Shige nods as he rests his heavy head on Tegoshi’s shoulder. “I think the washer’s done, by the way.”

“That’s nice,” Shige says carelessly, and Tegoshi thinks Shige needs to get laid all the time if he’s this calm afterward. He doesn’t even flinch when the front door opens, though Tegoshi’s eyes widen at the realization.

“Are you guys still here? You will not believe who I saw at the laundro- _oh my god_!”

Tegoshi has to admit, Massu’s face is comical as he stops short at the entrance to the kitchen, somewhere between extreme shock and severe disgust. Shige seems to realize what’s going on a few seconds later, burying his face in Tegoshi’s shoulder in some semblance of embarrassment as he fumbles to snap off the condom and close his pants.

“Who did you see at the laundromat?” Tegoshi asks casually as he grabs his boxers and hops into them. He cringes a little when his feet hit the floor, but that just means it was good.

“Uchi,” Massu says flatly. “We did our laundry together.”

“Now you can do laundry here!” Tegoshi says brightly, opening the lid of the washer to transfer his clothes to the dryer. “It works and everything. We tested it.”

Massu wrinkles his nose. “You  _tainted_  it.”

“Sorry,” Shige mumbles, and Massu pretends not to look as Shige tosses the condom into the wastebasket. “It was Tegoshi’s idea.”

“Of course it was.” Massu rubs at his eyes. “I’m just going to pretend I never saw this and Tegoshi will get dressed.”

“But my clothes are in the dryer,” Tegoshi points out, pouting for effect.

“Then put on some of mine,” is all Massu says, but Tegoshi ignores him.

It’s better on top of the dryer.


End file.
